


Mousetrap

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Persona Kink Meme [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Persona Kink Meme, Voyeurism, sin and filth, so much hurt, the kink meme is a bad influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 04:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: Does it count as a trap if you know what you're walking into? Akira doesn't think so. He's just there to get back his last Thief, get his evidence, and get out.It's really a shame he underestimated Shido's depravity.





	1. Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> Just fuckin' end me oh my god this is 50% Sin and Filth and the other 50% is recovering from the sin and filth and I don't even KNOW where this came from. This is post-Casino, in a world where the betrayal at the end didn't happen and Sae's heart was successfully stolen with no problems. I picture Shido as having his own office somewhere that's not the Diet Building.
> 
> Original prompt: https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=550625
> 
> "shido/wild cards - noncon/dubcon, manipulation, voyeurism: shido fucking akechi or akira in front of the other. or doing both of them, e.g. taking turns by tossing one aside and making them watch with a fresh load of cum in them. bonus points for making them fuck/make out in front of him or both suck his dick. all of it being handled as a huge powerplay on them."

“If I’d known it would be this easy to lure out the leader of the Phantom Thieves, I’d have done this ages ago.”

Akira seethed silently, standing in the doorway between two of Masayoshi Shido’s lapdogs. They’d already patted him down, taking his phone, his keys, and both the model gun he’d been carrying and his Misericorde, which was a shame because Iwai had been kind enough to actually sharpen it for him. Akira really wanted it right now, because his current urge was to lunge across the room and bury it in the smug bastard’s neck. As it was, he kept his fists clenched in the pockets of his jacket, knowing it was probably better that he didn’t have the knife.

One false move, and the reason he was here would be a blood splatter against the wall.

Shido was smirking, tapping the barrel of his gun against Akechi’s temple. “I wouldn’t have expected that you’d be so quick to try to rescue the detective that’s been trying to find you. Or, rather...the one who killed your friends’ parents. But, considering...”

“Why are you here?” Akechi said, and he sounded almost angry. “You idiot, you had to have known you were walking into a trap!”

“Yes, ah… Kurusu-kun, is it? Do tell.” Shido smiled cruelly. “Tell why you chose to walk in here for a pathetic, unwanted _murderer_.”

“You’re our teammate,” Akira said coolly, looking at Akechi and not the awful politician. “I wasn’t leaving you behind.”

Akechi gaped at him. “Your whole stupid team agreed that anyone who got caught wouldn’t drag the rest down with them. And you’re risking everyone for _me?_ ”

Akira straightened up, and without his glasses, he was unquestioningly the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, even without the mask and costume and weapons. “Crow. Be quiet.” His gaze snapped to Shido, and he asked coldly, “What do you want?”

“I _want_ you and your merry band of delinquents out of my way,” Shido replied. “And with their leader in my hands, eliminating the rest of them should be no problem at all.”

“There’s no reason to do that,” Akira said, none of his sudden desperation leaking into his voice. “I am their leader; without me, they’ll be too scattered to accomplish anything. And killing that many teenagers with the election coming up? Too many chances for something to go wrong. Just deal with me, and leave them alone.”

Shido raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the selfless martyr?” The hand he had tangled in Akechi’s hair tightened, tugging and causing the detective to wince. “Do you know why any of us are here right now? _This little whore_ hesitated. A perfect plan for a staged suicide, laid out to the letter, and he decided it was no longer acceptable because he spent one too many mornings doing a walk of shame out of your sad little coffee shop.” He smiled at the sudden, startled look on Akira’s face. “You didn’t think I would just let someone as powerful as this brat wander around without some sort of supervision? It’s not just your thieves, is it? That man that runs the coffee shop; he’s in on this too, right? I wonder how many other people you’ve gotten involved in your games.”

“What do you _want?_ ” Akira demanded, a hairline crack appearing in his unaffected facade.

“Entertain me,” Shido said, and the two guards on either side of Akira turned and left the office, the doors closing behind them and leaving just the three of them remaining. “You’ve spent enough time together in that hole of a shop. You should have plenty of practice. Your life depends on how well you do.” He shoved Akechi forward, sending him stumbling into Akira, and the thief felt a sudden chill. Shido wasn’t implying what he thought he was...no, that would be…

“My life is forfeit anyway,” Akira said, arms instinctively looping around Akechi’s waist. “We both know you’re not going to let me go. Why should I do anything you say?”

“Then the lives of everyone else you care about are forfeit as well,” Shido said, a note of triumph in his voice. “The cafe owner, to start, this brat here, and your precious thieves, but I wonder how many other connections I could track down if I tried, Akira Kurusu?”

His thoughts flashed to his friends, his confidantes. Could Shido find out where he’d been getting medicine? Who’d taught him to negotiate with shadows? Would he go after the kid that had taught him how to shoot? He bowed his head, trying to think, and Shido laughed.

“If either of you disobey, I’ll blow the other’s brains out, and then the rest of them will die. Do you understand?”

“...yes,” Akira said, reluctantly, and Akechi’s eyes widened with panic.

“Akira, do you even understand what he’s asking?!”

Akira nodded, mustering up a smile. “They have to live. _You have to live_.”

“You’re worth a hundred of me!” Akechi objected. “I’m just...I’m just filth, carrying out Shido’s disgusting orders. Do you even know how many people he’s ordered dead?”

“That’s right. He’s obeyed everything I told him. Everyone I needed to eliminate,” Shido said. “But you don’t care, do you, phantom thief? So enough talking. Get to it, or I’ll shoot you both right here.”

“Aki--” Akechi’s protest was cut off with a rough kiss as Akira crushed their lips together. He pushed at Akira’s shoulders, trying to get him to stop, to see reason, but Akira’s arms were firm around his waist, his mouth sure and unrelenting.

When Akira pulled away, his eyes were blazing, the deep grey taking on an impossibly red tint as he whispered against Akechi’s mouth, “If I have to let you fuck me in front of him to get a little more time, so be it.” He shrugged his jacket off, throwing it to the floor in Shido’s general direction. “Come on, Goro. Focus on me. We can get through this.”

“You are _impossible_ ,” Akechi snarled, yanking him forward again. But Akira was right. If he shut out everything else, and focused only on the warmth of Akira’s body and the taste of his kisses, it was easier. Mercifully, there was no other sound, just their quiet noises as clothes came off and hands roamed, an edge of desperation and fear in their movements, each determined to keep the other alive. It was more performance than genuine pleasure, but humans were responsive creatures, if nothing else. A touch in the right place, and the body didn’t care whether the mind wanted it or not.

Akira’s back arched off the carpet as Akechi’s fingers teased at his entrance, and Shido suddenly made his presence known again as he commented, “Maybe you’re not the whore after all, Akechi. This one is a little too eager to be filled, don’t you think?”

Akechi bit back the urge to tell him to _shut the fuck up_ , hunching over and never taking his eyes off of Akira’s face. They didn’t have lube, they didn’t have _anything_ , this was going to end up hurting Akira and Akechi was going to hate himself for it. But as he stuck his fingers in his own mouth, hoping to do anything to make it a little better, Shido’s voice called on them to stop.

“Enough.”

Akechi almost bit his own fingers, and Akira levered himself up on one elbow, unable to completely mask the nervousness in his expression. Shido got up from his chair, where he’d been watching them intently, and came around the desk, revealing that he had himself in hand and was blatantly hard. Both boys resisted the urge to gag, and Akechi tried to inch his way in front of Akira, afraid that he knew what was about to happen.

“You know what to do, don’t you, Akechi? You can show your friend how to use his pretty mouth.”

Akira glanced at Akechi, his eyes widening in horror at the realization that this wasn’t the first time an order like this had been given. But Akechi didn’t look back, focusing completely on Shido. “Wait, he’s never-- Just let me--”

Shido picked up the gun from the desktop with his free hand and levelled it at Akira. Akechi’s head dropped, and he crawled forward submissively until Shido could grab his hair. The man then turned his attention to Akira, who hadn’t moved, and said with cold amusement, “Well? Come here, little thief.” He rapped the barrel of the gun against the top of Akechi’s head, and the detective tried to curl in on himself despite the grip on his hair. Akira had never seen him look so small, so broken. Not even when he’d admitted to being the Black Mask, late one night curled in Akira’s futon in Leblanc.

Akira dragged himself forward, reaching to take Akechi’s hand, and the detective squeezed so hard it felt like his fingers would break. But the feeling paled in comparison to the cold muzzle of the gun coming to rest against his forehead, and Shido smiled mockingly. “I assume you have at least an idea of what to do. Go ahead.”

Akechi moved first, taking the head of Shido’s cock into his mouth in a motion that seemed practiced, his expression resigned. That left Akira to swallow his revulsion and mouth along the rest of the shaft. Shido tasted of sweat and salt, and something undefinable, like the rot in his mind and soul had seeped through his pores to coat his skin. Akira tried to ignore the growing urge to vomit, keeping his tongue working, his lips occasionally brushing Akechi’s as they moved clumsily in tandem. A mimicry of a kiss, with Shido between them. A fitting metaphor for everything they’d been up to this point, really.

Shido, for his part, wasn’t noisy. He didn’t moan or groan, just gritted out the occasional order to ‘do more of that’ or ‘suck harder, you useless brat’. Akechi’s expression had gone dull and dead, clearly some kind of coping mechanism against what he was being forced to do, and Akira felt himself zoning out as well until his hair was grabbed and yanked roughly.

“Get up, and bend over the desk,” Shido ordered.

Akira felt his blood turn to ice, but the gun was already pointed at Akechi’s forehead, right between his wide, frightened eyes. Akira knew that fear was mirrored on his own face, but he staggered to his feet, his aching knees protesting the movement. Shido used the hold on his hair to slam him down onto the desk, and he saw stars briefly, Akechi’s voice cutting through the haze.

“Shido-san, just take me instead, don’t do this!”

“Shut up. If you’re so worried about your friend, you’ll get back to what you were doing with your mouth, because that’s all he’s going to get.”

Akira tried to push himself up, but the gun cracked against the back of his head, and his vision went fuzzy as the barrel pushed at the base of his skull. 

Akechi bit back a cry of Akira’s name, taking Shido’s cock back into his mouth and trying to coat it with as much saliva as he could. _I’m sorry, Akira, I’m so sorry, please, god, forgive me for this…_ Drool ran down his chin, his movements sloppy and frantic, and he whined when Shido grabbed his hair again. He realized what was about to happen a split-second before it did, but there wasn’t time to choke out an objection before Shido had forced his cock all the way into his mouth, down his throat. Akechi tried to suck, to keep going, to do whatever would please him so he’d pull away, but he could feel himself getting lightheaded, his vision darkening at the edges, unable to breathe around the obstruction in his throat.

“This and killing are really all you’re good for,” Shido commented, watching him with a bored expression. “At least that’s one more thing you have going for you than your mother did.”

Akechi’s eyes flew wide, and he gagged, beginning to choke. Shido planted a foot against his chest and shoved him away, and he collapsed to the carpet, dry-heaving and hunching into a ball as he gasped for breath. “Y-You knew…? _You kn--_ ” He couldn’t even get the words out, covering his mouth as his stomach lurched again, and Shido laughed.

“Of course I knew. You look just like her.” He lined his spit-slick cock up against Akira’s entrance, and the leader of the Phantom Thieves jolted, a scream tearing from his throat as Shido forced himself inside. His fingertips raked against the top of the desk, nails scrabbling for purchase, trying to escape even though he knew he couldn’t. He knew he should be fighting, should be trying to kick, but his legs wouldn’t move and everything was pain and the gun was _right there_ in his peripheral vision as he continued to wail, as Shido thrust into him mercilessly, a hand on the back of his head to keep him in place.

Akechi sat collapsed in a heap, like a cut marionette, hearing Akira’s screams as if he was far away. He didn’t know how much time passed, his mind a whirl. Shido had asked this of him, not just this time, but times before...when he knew? He’d known his father was a disgusting human, but to this degree… He could feel a scream building up inside of him, and he choked it down, forcing himself to look up, haunted eyes meeting tearful ones as he and Akira locked gazes for a brief second before the thief’s eyes squeezed shut with a pained cry. “Stop!” Akechi cried, but he was ignored, and Shido slammed into the thief over and over, before finally going still at last.

Akira whimpered as he felt the cum inside of him, making a wounded sound as Shido pulled away. But before he could even think of moving, the man dragged him from the top of the desk and threw him to the floor beside Akechi, leaning against the desk casually.

“I’ve changed my mind from before,” he said. “I want to see _you_ fuck _him_ , thief.”

Akira made a disoriented sound, barely aware of Akechi trying to help him sit up. He could barely think with how much his insides hurt, neither boy was hard at this point, and both knew there was no way they could fake it. Akira dropped his head against Akechi’s shoulder, a hysterical giggle bubbling up in his throat. That was how this game ended, then? Shido would keep asking things of them until his requests were impossible to meet, and then _boom, clap,_ and all that was left was a job for the cleaners. And maybe some new paint. Akira didn’t know how hard it was to wash blood off the walls.

“Did you hear me?” Shido asked, and Akira, with a voice raw from screaming, spoke quietly,

“Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?” Shido’s voice was like a warning shot, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, wrapping himself around Akechi and feeling the detective curl shaking arms around him in return.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Akechi shook his head.

“For being an idiot. For wasting time trying to save me, I hope,” he whispered back.

“For not saving you,” Akira breathed, closing his eyes as he heard the safety on the gun click off. He heard Akechi take a trembling breath, heard yelling and thumping, a tremendous crash, a gunshot… But in the wake of the shot, there was no pain, no change, and someone was still yelling. Lots of people, yelling, barking orders, and Akira cracked his eyes open. 

The police?

Someone was reading Shido his rights. Shido was bleeding from his shoulder.

Sae?

Someone was yelling his name. There was someone crying in the direction of the hallway.

Sojiro? ...Futaba?

Someone was trying to pry him away from Akechi, and he lashed out furiously. The person retreated, and when they returned, they just wrapped a blanket around the two boys. Akira felt like he couldn’t see. Everything was just too much. They weren’t dead. They weren’t going to die. There were too many people in this room…

The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Akechi, crying hot tears of relief against his shoulder.


	2. Desperate Measures

_“If I’d known it would be this easy to lure out the leader of the Phantom Thieves, I’d have done this ages ago.”_

Futaba grinned with pride, adjusting the audio quality on her recording program. The bug she’d planted on the underside of Akira’s collar was working perfectly, and with this, they’d hopefully have enough dirt on Shido to arrest him, _without_ risking a trip through whatever hellscape of a palace he had. And that would make her dad extremely happy, since he’d never liked the original Casino plan. Sojiro was hovering behind her, watching the waveform on the screen since Futaba refused to unplug her headphones.

He didn’t like this plan either, but Futaba was quite confident in her ‘big brother’s’ ability to not get killed. He’d had to go in alone; Shido had been specific when he’d left a message, and bringing anyone else would have been too suspicious. But as soon as they had evidence, Makoto’s sister was on speed-dial, ready to scramble the police.

_“I want you and your merry band of delinquents out of my way. And with their leader in my hands, eliminating the rest of them should be no problem at all.”_

Futaba tilted her head. Was that enough? It wasn’t explicit… But as she listened, her eyes grew wider and wider at the turn the conversation was taking. This wasn't part of the plan. He was just supposed to go in there, get Shido to say something incriminating, and keep himself and Akechi safe until the police burst in. “Akira…” she whispered involuntarily, but when Sojiro shot her a concerned glance, she said nothing, eyeing the recording with increasing anxiety. Say something, say something, say something, _say something…!_

_“That’s right. He’s obeyed everything I told him. Everyone I needed to eliminate. But you don’t care, do you, phantom thief? So enough talking. Get to it, or I’ll shoot you both right here.”_

Futaba stopped the recording with a slam nearly hard enough to break the keyboard, already loading the audio into a file and cutting it down to the necessary admittances of guilt. “Sojiro, call Makoto’s sister. I’ll have evidence in a minute, but she needs to be ready. Akira’s in trouble!”

Sojiro pulled out his phone. “Bring the laptop and get in the car. We’re going.”

Futaba stumbled after him down the stairs, still listening, though everything got fainter as there was a rushing of cloth around the microphone. She realized with an ill feeling that it was probably Akira’s jacket landing on the floor somewhere. Sojiro stopped just long enough to grab a wooden box he’d left on the table, and then they were out of the house and gone, gunning it towards the government district.

The car ride was a blur, and Futaba sent the audio off to Sae as fast as she could. She could only edit it so much, so as not to compromise the authenticity, so Joker and Crow were officially going to be known to the world if this went beyond the police. Which it would. But that would be fine; it would be easier to protect them from the media than from Masayoshi Shido.

_“Enough."_

Futaba could barely hear, but she could guess what was happening from what came next, and she covered her mouth with a whimper.

“You don’t have to keep listening,” Sojiro said, concerned, though he didn’t take his eyes off the road as he floored it past slow-moving traffic and merged through a dangerously small space. He still remembered all the shortcuts to get downtown quickly; working for the government back in the day had taught him plenty of useful things.

“Yes, I do! I have to make sure…” _I have to make sure he’s still alive. That they’re both still alive._

When they pulled up at the building where Shido’s office was, Sae and a squad of police officers were already there.

“Twenty seconds of that recording was enough to convince the commissioner,” she said, watching the police prep their gear to go in. “We’re ready to go. Thank you, Futaba-chan.”

Futaba was only half-listening, laptop still cradled in her arms even though she could barely hear what was being said through her bug. Her eyes were wide and scared. But then she gasped, ripping her headphones off, and both Sae and Sojiro stared at her in concern. “Futaba-chan?”

“He’s _screaming!_ ” Futaba shrieked. “You have to get him!”

Sae immediately turned to the police. “Go! Now!”

Sojiro pulled a gun from the box he’d brought with them, saying sternly to his daughter, “Stay here,” before going after Sae. Futaba obeyed for exactly thirty seconds, just long enough to stash her laptop in the car, then went after them.

***

In the end, when the police kicked the door in, Sojiro had been first through. He hadn’t even thought when he’d brought the gun up and fired. All he’d seen was _that man,_ the man that had killed Wakaba, the man that was _pointing a gun at his kids,_ and he’d just acted, because he’d sooner see Masayoshi Shido dead than give him the opportunity to hurt any more of his family.

And not that he’d admit it, but he was a little disappointed it was only a shoulder wound.

Sae shoved him aside, declaring Shido under arrest, letting the police read him his rights and cuff him. Futaba (because of course she hadn’t listened to him) was sobbing in the hallway at the sight of her brother and Akechi on the floor. And Akira…

“Akira! Kid!”

Akira was trying his best to fight off the officer that had gone to check on him with one arm, the other still solidly wrapped around the detective prince.

Sojiro shook his head, retreating to the hallway to hug Futaba. “Message your friends,” he said. “Akira’s alive. And so’s Akechi-kun.” He pulled out his own phone, texting Doctor Takemi. She was going to have to meet them at the shop, because both of those kids were going to need medical attention.

Thank god he could take them both home, though.


	3. Epilogue

There was a sign on the door of Leblanc, beneath the usual closed sign. In varying fonts, it said, line-by-line:

**\- Closed due to family emergency. Thank you for your patience.**  
 _\- Kids, give it a few days, they’re in rough shape and don’t want to see anyone._  
\- Texting is fine.  
 ** _\- If you are someone from the media, your presence is not wanted, and if you linger outside the door the police will be called. Thank you._**

Upstairs, Akira and Akechi were buried in Akira’s blankets. No one had been allowed into Leblanc except Sojiro, Futaba, Doctor Takemi, and Morgana. Tae had been checking on them once a day, mostly due to the severity of Akira’s injuries, Sojiro and Futaba had been making sure they ate, and Morgana was keeping them company and acting as a runner if they needed anything.

He’d also cut the TV on for them, and this particular evening, they were watching curiously as the media ate up news about Shido’s arrest like piranhas.

_“Conspiracy, blackmail, first-degree murder by proxy, felony child endangerment, sexual assault of a minor…”_ There was a news anchor clearly trying to keep it together as she read off a list of crimes Shido was being charged with. The segment played clips from the audio Futaba had recorded, with a warning that it could be ‘disturbing’ for some viewers. And the anchor concluded with _“And we need to remember, the Phantom Thieves, at least the two that we know of, are no older than seventeen. These are children, and I pray that any of the others that are still anonymous are safe tonight.”_

“They’re...counting me as a phantom thief,” Akechi said quietly, wonderingly.

Akira rolled over, wrapping his arms around Akechi’s torso and all-but burrowing against him. “Of course you are. Why do you think I came to get you?”

Akechi scoffed. “Because you’re a fool with no sense of self-preservation. And I’m offended. Not only was I used as bait, the person I was bait _for_ was stupid enough to take it.”

Akira shifted just enough to brush his lips against Akechi’s, then went back to pressing against him. “Do you really think all those ‘walks of shame’ didn’t mean anything? I wasn’t going to let him kill someone I love. It was worth it.”

“I don’t see how.” He’d escaped with bruises, a sore scalp, and a sore throat, but Akira had a concussion, several more...intimate injuries, and was covered in abrasions of his own making because Akechi had left him alone in the bath for two minutes and came back to find him scrubbing hard enough to rub his skin off. He’d forgotten that just because he was used to this sort of treatment didn’t mean that Akira was, and that it wouldn’t be as simple as just cleaning up and going home to try to forget.

And the nightmares. They’d both woken up screaming the past few nights, much to Morgana’s dismay.

“It was worth it,” Akira repeated, and that was all he had to say on the matter. Akechi sighed, pulling him close. He’d put up with Shido for years, but somehow, seeing him hurt Akira had hurt worse than anything that had ever been done to him.

Morgana, who’d left sometime in the middle of the news report, padded back into the attic, hopping up on the table beside the TV. “Sojiro made curry, if you guys are hungry.”

Akira forced himself up. It was less painful to walk than it had been a day or two ago, but Akechi still got up and helped support him. “We’ll come downstairs.”

They made their way down the stairs carefully, finding Sojiro in the kitchen with a freshly-made batch of curry, and Futaba standing in the store’s doorway, brandishing her phone and yelling, “I’m calling the police!” The two boys climbed into a booth, sitting on the same side, and when Futaba slammed the door and came over to sit across from them she cracked a tired smile. “Those trash mob reporters keep lurking around outside, like if they ignore the sign long enough they’ll get to come in and bother you. It’s disgusting. They just want to see the ‘leader of the phantom thieves’. They don’t care about Akira Kurusu at all.”

Sojiro brought over four plates of curry and sat down beside Futaba, looking the two of them over critically. “How are you both? Is the pain getting better?”

Akira nodded. “Still sore, but… I can manage.”

“I’m fine,” Akechi said, but neither Futaba nor Sojiro looked like they believed him.

“Physical wounds are one thing, kid, but emotional wounds are another.”

Akechi frowned. “I dealt with Shido much longer than just the other day. I know how to take care of myself.” He ignored Morgana and Futaba frowning disapprovingly at him by taking a giant bite of curry.

Sojiro jabbed furiously at his plate. “That man isn’t human. Hurting _kids_ like that…” He watched Akechi and Akira, who hadn’t been more than a foot apart in days except to shuffle to the bathroom, and wished for the hundredth time that he’d hit Shido somewhere a lot more vital with that shot.

There was a faint tap on the door of Leblanc, and Futaba literally climbed over the back of the booth seat, a snarl on her face. “If people don’t start learning to _take a hint…!_ ”

But Akira glanced at the door, and a spark of recognition lit his expression. “Wait, Futaba, that’s Ohya. It’s okay. She can come in.”

Futaba looked suspicious, but opened the door, and the reporter rushed into Leblanc to look Akira and Akechi over. “Oh my god, you’re okay,” she said breathlessly. “Everyone is freaking out. Lala-chan hasn’t been able to open the bar in days because your friends have basically taken over.”

“...what?” Akira managed, consciously relaxing after being afraid that she was going to try to hug him or something. “Our friends?”

“Yeah. Some politician slumped in the other night looking miserable, at the same time that your loud blond friend...er, Ryuji-kun? Yeah, he showed up with all of these other teenagers in tow, and they all figured out that they knew you and that Lala-chan and I knew you. And then the next night the fortune-teller from down the street showed up because she’d ‘seen something in the cards’, and some other girl showed up with the artist kid because apparently they go to the same school, and some lady who said she was your teacher wandered in with the pretty blonde girl. And then that Ryuji kid showed up with some guy who runs some kind of gun store and some elementary schooler and his mom that apparently know you? And I’m sure I’m forgetting someone, but there’s a lot of people, and they’ve spent the past few nights in the bar watching the news coverage of all of this bullshit and freaking out because you’re not taking visitors.” When Ohya stopped for breath, she held up her camera. “Can I take your picture, so they actually believe me when I say I’ve seen you?”

Akira actually smiled through the bruises and wrapped an arm around Akechi. “As long as it doesn’t end up in an article.”

“Of course not! What kind of vulture do you take me for?” Ohya said, offended, but she lifted her camera and took the shot. “I miiiiight be hoping I’ll get the exclusive first interview with the mysterious phantom thieves, though.”

“Better you than those other jerks,” Futaba muttered. 

Akechi nodded in agreement. “Ohya-san, have you heard anything about what Niijima-san of the SIU has been doing the past few days?”

Ohya thought about it for a second. “Well, she’s in charge of Shido’s case, but that’s something the news won’t shut up about. Oh, I know! Her sister’s been at the bar with the others the past few nights, and she said that Niijima-san called the police commissioner a jackass yesterday because he wanted to have you two arrested.”

“Arrested?” Sojiro said, alarmed.

“Yeah. Big, bad phantom thieves, with their identities finally revealed? He apparently wanted to make a move and she shut him down. Put the fear of god into half the department because ‘how dare you even think of arresting those children after what they’ve been through?’” Her voice was blatantly mimicking Makoto mimicking Sae, and Akira laughed quietly.

“I’ll have to thank her.” He didn’t have any doubts that they were going to be arrested at some point, but as long as they had time to recover first, it would be okay. He hoped, anyway. “Hey, do me a favor?”

“Anything for my favorite informant.”

“Tell them we’ll come see them tomorrow at Crossroads? Sojiro can drive us, and we can wear disguises to avoid the press.” He batted his eyes at his guardian as he spoke, and Sojiro sighed heavily but didn’t object. “Just, uh...tell them no hugs or anything until further notice. I can’t really handle anyone other than Goro right now.”

“Yeah, and that’s a shame, because Akira gives the best hugs.”

“Futaba!” Sojiro groaned.

“Well, she’s not _wrong._ ”

“Goro!”

Ohya laughed at them. “I’ll let them know, kid. Both of you, take care of yourselves.”

Akira nodded. “We will. And I owe you that interview, as soon as I’m back to at least 90%.”

Ohya left with a huge grin, slipping out the door and letting Futaba lock it behind her in case anyone else was still lurking outside. Everyone returned to their curry, but Akechi picked at his, stealing glances at Sojiro until Akira elbowed him and said, “Just ask, you idiot.”

Akechi looked like a deer in the headlights, but stammered out awkwardly, “You, uh, my first name?” It was so far from his mask as the composed, perfect detective prince that Futaba started giggling at him.

But Sojiro just shrugged. “If you’re with him,” he said, gesturing at Akira with his spoon, “then you’re technically part of the family. And frankly, considering your track record with family so far, you need this.”

Akechi stared down his curry, but it couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face. “...thank you,” he whispered.

“Don’t thank me,” Sojiro said. “Just take this chance to have a better life.” Jeeze, these kids. If all Goro Akechi needed to be happy was someone that actually gave a damn about him, he wished he’d started visiting Leblanc years ago. Maybe all of this could have been avoided. But as it stood now, he was going to take care of these kids, starting with making sure they healed properly.

Although, as he watched Akira link his fingers with Akechi’s under the table, they seemed to be doing a good job of that with each other, already.

***

When they walked into Crossroads the next night, Akira realized that Ohya hadn’t been exaggerating. All of his friends and confidantes were there, and even though they all met him with excited chatter and beaming smiles, not a single one tried to hug him.

“Thank god you two are all right,” Ann said, and the Thieves and Mishima crowded around, not getting too close, but filling them in on what they’d missed the past few days. Sae stood to one side with Sojiro, quietly discussing how the case was progressing. Akira and Akechi were going to have to testify against Shido, but there was a solid chance that their actions as phantom thieves would be dismissed.

Kawakami shoved half the Thieves out of the way to scold Akira for doing something so dangerous, but she was crying and he knew she’d just been worried. His other confidantes expressed similar sentiments; he was called an idiot more times in the span of five minutes than he’d been in months, and Akechi received much the same treatment. It was all the most affectionate ways to call someone an idiot, though. And when they finally managed to make it to the bar, Lala called them both ridiculous and told them they could have whatever they wanted, on the house.

Both Akira and Akechi couldn’t explain how grateful they were. Testifying against Shido was going to be terrifying, the possibility of prison and being separated, even worse. But as long as they had the support of all of their friends, they knew it was going to be okay. It was going to take a while to be totally okay again, but they could do it. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> All right, I hope you guys...enjoyed? Or something. I'm off to contemplate my life choices. X'D


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